Lots of people thought that Cynthia was simply lucky.

  That she had somehow stumbled into her modest fame, that she didn’t deserve it. Because she wasn’t someone who had clawed her way up from nothing. Wasn’t an orphan or a child with a single mother, making her way through the gyms with only the most common Pokémon one could find.

  So people called her lucky.

  Lucky to be born as the granddaughter of a famous Professor.

  Lucky to get a Gible egg as a child.

  Lucky to be born with the gifts she had.

  She never really minded. People could think what they wanted, just because they couldn’t do what she could, didn’t mean everything about her could be reduced to luck.

  Of course, in some ways, she was lucky.

  She could admit that to herself. She had advantages most trainers could only dream of, but that didn’t change anything.

  There were plenty of people who had even more advantages than her.

  Plenty of people who were even luckier.

  Who had a champion for a parent.

  Who could get any Pokemon they wanted.

  Who was born smarter than she could even dream of being.

  And, even with all those things, a lot of those people still amounted to nothing.

  Because, honestly?

  Simply being lucky didn’t change anything.

  It wasn’t luck that kept her up late at night, studying every known strategy, move set, and battle technique. It wasn’t luck that had her notebooks stacked high, filled with training notes, theories, and plans. It wasn’t luck that made her drop everything to figure out how to earn Queenie’s respect or spend hours perfecting her team’s growth.

  And even now, after everything that had happened yesterday, she was up as early as ever.

  Because if she wanted to be stronger, if she wanted to achieve her goals, there were no shortcuts. No skipping training, no taking it easy. That was what most people never got, that having all the advantages in the world didn’t matter if you didn’t do something with them.

  That was something she took pride in, that she always gave it her all. Because while she might be lucky, she also worked harder than anyone else.

  Which was why it felt like a punch to the gut when she spotted the boy next to Rei, both of them staring intently at a large boulder, riddled with cracks and strange indentations.

  "You're awake?" The words spilled out of Cynthia’s mouth before she could stop them.

  Rei didn’t react, too focused on something, while the boy merely glanced at her and mimed for her to be quiet. She almost spoke up anyway but shut her mouth with an audible clack as Rei’s ear lit up with a faint, pale blue glow.

  It was the start of a move. But from a single glance, Cynthia could tell it was unstable. The light flickered, wavering like a candle in the wind, the technique refusing to take proper shape. Rei’s eyes narrowed, her teeth clenched, determination tightening her small frame as she fought to force the move under her control.

  Slowly, painstakingly, it began to stabilize, the icy glow creeping across her ear like frost spreading over glass.

  Then, before it could slip away, Rei swung.

  Straight into the boulder.

  The boy cringed.

  Cynthia cringed.

  And Rei-

  Rei howled, stumbling back as she cradled her ear like a wounded limb. She let out a rapid, high-pitched string of noises that, to Cynthia’s trained ear, sounded suspiciously like the kind of cursing her grandmother muttered after stubbing her toe on a table leg.

  As the initial shock wore off, Rei turned sharply toward the boy, eyes narrowing in pure accusation, like this was somehow his fault.

  Cynthia couldn’t help it. She cracked a smile at the familiar byplay.

  “Hey, that was not my fault,” the boy protested, raising his hands defensively, only to barely dodge a swinging ear. “Why are you attacking me? You were the one who swung before we were ready!”

  Rei did not look convinced. And just as she lunged at him, ears poised for vengeance, Cynthia decided to throw him a bone.

  “That was supposed to be Ice Punch, right?”

  Both the boy and the Buneary froze, turning to look at her at the exact same time, him with pure gratitude, her with lingering irritation.

  Cynthia took in the scene, the boy straining to hold back Rei’s long ears, the Buneary practically standing on his chest, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

  Actually.

  A thought popped up into her mind as she processed the situation.

  “I could tell, since I have a team-member who has practiced the same move.” Cynthia continued casually and watched the way they both perked up.

  Hook.

  She plucked a minimized Poké Ball from her belt and let it expand to full size with a click. Then, with a practiced flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the air. The ball split open with a familiar crack, releasing a brilliant white beam that quickly took shape.

  “Riolu!” The cry of her second oldest team member rang out.

  “Riolu has more or less mastered it,” Cynthia continued smoothly, hands on her hips. “And if you want, he could probably help you learn it…” She trailed off, letting the offer hang.

  The boy’s eyes practically lit up at the sight of her Pokémon.

  Line.

  “…But it would be great if you could answer some questions while he helps out Rei,” Cynthia added smoothly.

  The boy hesitated, glancing at Rei, who had already moved over to Riolu. She stood before him, arms crossed, radiating disbelief. The kind of look that said there is no way you, a tiny blue dog, have anything to teach me.

  “Sure! That’d be fantastic,” the boy said, a little too quickly. “We’ve really been struggling with the move. I just can’t seem to understand how Ice-type energy functions as a punching move….” He trailed off, staring at Cynthia with an odd expression.

  Sinker.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Cynthia felt a slightly silly smile appear on her face, and from the look of the boys face he seemed to suddenly rethink how great an offer this had been.

  “Fantastic.” Cynthia felt herself purr.

  The boy paled. “Actually, I think we need to wor…”

  She didn’t let him finish.

  After yesterday’s conversation had been cut short, courtesy of a very motherly, very angry Lopunny, she still had about a million questions for him. And now?

  Now, he had nowhere to run.

  ….

  Cynthia crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her sleeves. “So you have no actual basis for anything you’re saying.” Her tone was sharper than she intended, but she didn’t care enough to soften it. It was frustrating how his answers kept circling back to the same thing.

  He just knew.

  No reasoning, no evidence, just certainty.

  The boy, and seriously, she really needed to get him a name, shrugged, his expression irritatingly casual. “Nope. In my mind, the things I know are crystal clear. It’s just... well, it feels like common knowledge. Or, uh, not exactly common knowledge, but like the kind of thing you’d pick up if you knew a bit about Pokémon trivia.”

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes, studying him. His face was annoyingly blank, almost indifferent, as if the bizarre situation didn’t bother him at all. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of uncertainty, quickly hidden behind that practiced what-can-you-do expression.

  For a moment they just stared at each other and Cynthia felt some disappointment well up inside her. Even though the boy had told her he only remembered facts, those facts didn’t seem to include explanations.

  Which was, if he wanted people to believe them, the most important part.

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging just slightly. “I guess that would be too easy.”

  The boy perked up. “I mean, you could try and send it to a Pokémon Professor, right? They could test if it’s right or not? Though… how would they even test that actually? Haven’t really thought about it, but evolving by friendship…” He trailed off, scratching his head.

  Cynthia blinked, momentarily thrown off by the suggestion. She hadn’t expected him to think that far ahead. “Yeah, that was sort of what I realized too. I’ll still log it in the Pokédex, but it will probably go straight onto the backburner. Professor Rowan is busy as is, and...” she sighed, her voice growing softer, “Evolution is already something that can happen at any time. Some Pokémon evolve after a personal realization, after all. How would you test for something like liking someone enough?”

  The boy pursed his lips, “I mean, it wouldn’t be liking somebody right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged again, but this time his gaze was distant, like he was trying to grab onto a memory that kept slipping away. “I mean, liking somebody is... well, it’s complicated. You could like me right now, but tomorrow, you might hate me for being annoying. It feels like the criteria for evolution would be trust. That seems... I don’t know, more right.”

  Cynthia opened her mouth, ready to argue. Trust wasn’t that different from like, was it? But then she paused, her mind racing through battle scenarios and experiences with Queenie. Trust did seem more... solid, more consistent. As a Gible, Queenie had quickly liked her, but trusting her decisions?

  That had taken time.

  Her eyes widened. “Wait, you said that felt more right?” she asked, excitement bubbling up in her chest. “Are you sure that isn’t some hint from your knowledge?”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, okay? A lot of what I know doesn’t make sense. Honestly, I’m surprised you even believe me.”

  Cynthia didn’t hesitate, the words spilled forward like a mantra. “Just because something seems unfamiliar doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Just because it’s old and traditional doesn’t mean it lacks meaning. A lot of people dismiss knowledge and experiences, the myths and superstitions. But I’ve learned that many of them have reasonable explanations behind them. There’s a reason the earliest Pokédex entries were filled with myths. They held a hint of truth. Like how people fear Absol, thinking it brings disaster. But among professors, it’s common knowledge that Absol doesn’t cause disasters; it warns people about them.”

  The boy blinked, his arms slowly dropping to his sides as he stared at her, his mouth slightly open. “Huh... I never thought about it that way.”

  Cynthia crossed her arms, tilting her chin up in defiance of imaginary opponents. “Of course not. Most people don’t. They hear something that sounds strange or doesn’t fit what they know, and they write it off as nonsense. But that’s just ignorance. I don’t care how weird the things you say are. If there’s a chance they hold some truth, then I want to know. If it leads nowhere, well at least I explored the possibility.”

  The boy looked at her, really looked at her, his gaze sharp and thoughtful in a way she hadn’t seen before.

  “I don’t think I have ever met anybody who thought like that, people usually prefer to stay inside their own bubble.” He said, looking like he saw her for the first time.

  Cynthia felt her cheeks warm but refused to look away. “Well, that’s because you’ve never met me before.”

  His lips quirked into a lopsided smile, his eyes softening. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

  They stood there for a moment, the forest around them quiet, only the rustling leaves and distant cries of wild Pokémon filling the silence. Cynthia shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling a little awkward under his steady gaze.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Anyway, just because I believe you doesn’t mean I’m not going to question you,” she started, trying to sound stern. “If you’re going to spout weird facts, I’m going to get to the bottom of where they’re coming from.”

  His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Oh, so I guess you’re prepared to stick close to me then? Watch over me in case I let slip some other nugget of information?”

  “That’s right, I—” She stopped herself, her eyes widening as the implication sank in. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she quickly looked away, arms tightening defensively across her chest.

  He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Didn’t realize you were that eager to be my shadow. I get it though, who wouldn’t want to? Miss Assistant to the next great Pokémon professor, don’t worry though, I will mention you in my future memoir.”

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just meant until we get out of the forest. I still need to continue my journey.”

  He threw her a mock hurt look. “I see, so once we're out of here, you'll just leave me behind? Squeeze my dry in the forest and then throw me away after you’re done?”

  Cynthia felt her face grow even redder, heat prickling at her neck. She crossed her arms tighter, summoning every ounce of indignation she could muster.

  “That’s not—” She stopped herself, taking a breath to calm herself down. “You’re teasing me.”

  The boy just gave her a smile. “How about we check out if your Riolu has managed to break through Rei’s brick skull.” He said, before turning on his heels and walking away.

  Cynthia took a deep breath, then quickly caught up.

  ………

  Cynthia had figured that with the boy and Lopunny around, finding a way out of the forest would be a walk in the park. After all they had a map, and the boy had lived here for months.

  How hard could it be?

  The answer was, apparently, very hard.

  Cynthia groaned, burying her face in her hands as she glared at the half-ruined map. It was a miracle the thing had survived at all, considering its impromptu swim in the river, but that didn’t change the fact that most of it was now a smeared, unreadable mess.

  Beside her, the boy squinted at the paper, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

  Then his eyes widened. “Oh.”

  Cynthia perked up immediately, hope sparking in her chest. “You recognize something? You know where we are?”

  “Nope,” he said, popping the P with a sheepish grin. “I just realized... I don’t know how to read a map.”

  For a long moment, Cynthia just stared at him. “What do you mean you don’t know how to read a map?” Her voice was dangerously low.

  He shrugged, looking genuinely confused by her outrage. “I thought the map was just messed up, but... yeah. Pretty sure I never learned how to read one.”

  Cynthia’s eye twitched. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, words failing her as she looked at his guileless expression. He didn’t even seem to understand why that might be a problem.

  “You don’t know how to read a map?” She repeated, her voice flat.

  He raised an eyebrow, like he was wondering how that was a problem and as he opened his mouth to answer again, Cynthia cut him off.

  “How could you not know how to read a map? It’s literally mandatory knowledge if you want to go on a Journey, no actually, its just mandatory knowledge in general!”

  For the first time, his expression hardened, a flash of annoyance breaking through his usual nonchalance. “I don’t know! What part of amnesia don’t you understand?”

  Cynthia opened her mouth, just to shut it again. She hadn’t meant it like that.

  “Sorry.” She mumbled.

  The boy ran a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping. “No, it’s fine. Just…” He took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I need to get out of this forest. I honestly think I was going a little crazy before you showed up. For as fun as it is to speculate about how type energy works or train Rei, it’s not the same as talking to another human being.”

  He paused, gesturing to himself. “That, and... well, I don’t think humans are meant to survive on only Oran Berries for months on end.”

  A heavy silence hung between them. Cynthia’s anger evaporated, replaced by a prickling guilt that settled in her chest.

  Apparently, it showed on her face because the boy forced a smile. “Okay, so how about we just go with the first plan? We follow the river. On my own, Lopunny wouldn’t let me, but with you coming along, we can probably convince her.”

  Cynthia forced herself to return the smile. “She didn’t let you go on your own?”

  He shook his head, glancing toward where Rei was shepherding her smaller siblings. “No. Or, well, I think she’s worried Rei would come along, and without anybody else to defend me, she’s not sure if we’d make it.”

  “You don’t think she would go with you?” Cynthia asked, hearing the hesitation in his voice.

  “I’m not sure. I want her to, of course, but... she has responsibilities here. Even if I helped out, I’m not really her trainer after all.”

  Cynthia looked at Rei, then back at the boy, her gaze softening. During her life, she had seen the many different bonds people shared with their Pokémon. Some treated them like pets, others like partners, or even best friends. His bond with Rei wasn’t quite like her connection with Queenie, but...

  Rei looked back at them, her eyes fixed not on Cynthia but on the boy, anticipation glimmering in her gaze. It was like she understood things were about to change.

  Cynthia’s lips curled into a rare, gentle smile. “I think you might be surprised if you think she’d leave you behind.”